Not Alone
by Renier1151
Summary: There was one thing she knew about him, that he never wanted to be alone.  And alt. ending for Gamble's fate.  Gamble,O.C.  M for Cussin'
1. Chapter 1

Gamble lost his balance and fell towards the train. Jim realized in a gut wrenching second that Gamble could die right here, right now, under the wheel of a train. Sure, Gamble had asked for it, but they had been friends, what if Jim hadn't done all he could to help Brian? All this filtered through Jim's mind in the split second as Gamble fell towards the train.

There was a dull ping as Gamble's head collided with a bar protruding from the underside of a train car and he was thrown away from the tracks and face first into the gravel. He was still. Jim moved forward to check his vitals. The back of Brian's head was bleeding profusely, but his pulse was strong. He quickly cuffed his ex-friend's hands behind his back in case he decided to wake up and then called for his team to help him move Gamble.

As he waited for Deke and Hondo he inspected his hand, more concerned with his pain than the well being of his ex-friend. He was alive and breathing, he thought that was good enough. It would take a long time for him to get over all the crap he had just gone through because of the man lying motionless in front of him. He may never get over it.

"Got 'em" He heard Deke's voice as two men jogged towards him between the two trains.

"Street, you alright?" Hondo asked when they finally reached him.

"Been better. Everything secure up there?"

"Tight as a drum." Deke said as he inspected Brian. "How'd you do this?" He said pointing to the wound in the man's head.

"Hit him with a train."

"Huh." He started lifting Brian by one arm and Hondo got the other and they dragged him across the gravel where an EMS truck was waiting. They all piled in the back after Gamble was loaded up on a gurney and one of the EMTs started attending to him. It was a little close, but they needed to have people there if Gamble woke up. Another EMT attended to Jim's hand.

A groan stirred the relative silence that had descended on the truck a minute into the ride. They all stared at Brian on the gurney as he started to stir. The woman attending to him stopped what she was doing and squared herself up in front to of him.

"Brian? Can you hear me?" He shifted but his eyes didn't open. "Brian?" No response. She grabbed a bottle out of a nearby holder and unscrewed the cap releasing the sent of smelling salts into the air. She waved it under Brian's nose a few times and his eyes flashed open. Out of natural reaction he tried to grab at the woman, but his wrists were shackled to the gurney. Trying to clear the fog that engulfed his mind he shook his head.

"I'm gonna need you to sit still." The woman said reaching for Gamble.

"Get away from me!" He barked at her and she flinched but didn't move away.

"I say again, lie back for your own safety." But her words fell on deaf ears as Gambles blurry gaze locked on to Jim.

"You prick." Jim turned his head to show Gamble an emotionless face. "You rotten bastard, you can go straight to hell!" With his voice rising to a bellow, Gamble pulled and banged on the bars his wrists were tied to. Deke and Hondo awkwardly moved to restrain him in the small back of the truck, the EMT pulling herself out of the way. Gamble continued to try and do everything in his power to get at Jim, to hurt him, to make him flinch, to make him show some emotion, to make him feel what he had felt the second he found out that his partner of five years had sold him out to the brass.

After a while he gave up trying to fight off cuffs and two grown men and settled down, but his words did not.

"You played me, Jim. We were partners; you were supposed to have my back. You saw the situation in that bank, you knew that if we didn't move people were going to die."

"You shot a hostage, Bri."

"But I didn't kill a hostage! Did I?" Jim didn't respond. "Fuck." Brian blinked furiously as the fog started to close over him again. "Fool me once, shame on me…" He laid his head back. "Fool me twice, shame on you." He didn't move, didn't speak, didn't even look at Jim after that. Jim was left to process what his ex-partner had said. He had screwed Gamble over when he didn't back him for the bank situation; he knew that. He hadn't even thought of what he could have done tonight though. He could have left Gamble to run, to get out of dodge. There was no one with them there on those tracks when he had one bullet trained on him. He could have told him to get out, never come back to L.A., or the States for that matter, to vanish. Would Gamble have done that? Was that what he was referring to, or was it just his cloudy and concussed brain spewing words?

He decided he didn't care. The EMT finished his hand and he got off the truck without a look back at the unconscious Brian behind him. He met up with the rest of the team and got back into the S.W.A.T truck as the EMS pulled away to take Brian to the hospital.


	2. Chapter 2

"Brian Gamble." The guard stated as he stopped outside Gamble's cell. "You have a visitor." Brian stood and put his hand behind his back and out the slot in the door to be handcuffed. As soon as he felt the second click he turned back to face the officer and a loud buzz sounded from down the hall of cells. The guard pulled the door open and gamble walked out, taking his place on the wall until the guard had securely shut and locked the cell door again.

"Walk." The guard commanded and poked Gamble in the back to get him moving. He shrugged the night-stick off and sauntered down the hall towards the visiting room. He didn't know who would possibly be here. He had already been convicted of attempting to smuggle a prisoner out of the country, and was locked away for 13 years. Who in the world would want to see his face now? Just outside the visitaion room they switched his cuffs from behind his back to up front.

He got his answer when he sat down at the booth face to face with an auburn haired woman. She picked up the phone and he did the same, his other hand awkwardly dangling from the cuff. For a second nothing was said.

"What do you want, Beck?" Her heart hitched when she heard the voice she hadn't hear in two years.

"Was following your story on the news, found out where you were." His face was as cold as stone. He stared at her and she felt like a fool for not planning out what she was gong to say to him. "I'm sorry it all went down this way." She said after clearing her throat. "Jim won't even talk to me." He still didn't respond. "What's going on with you?"

"Look. Becky, I would love to recount my life for the past two years, but I don't think that's why you're here." Brian said, his voice like ice. She sighed and fiddled with the dog tags around her neck.

"Brian," She paused gathering he thoughts. "When I left you I was a mess. You were right. All the nightmares, the headaches… Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from Mogadishu triggered by my nursing job. It brought up so much… a psych got me on meds a few months after I left. I wanted to come back." His face softened ever so slightly.

"Why didn't you?"

"I was scared. I don't know." She ran a hand over he face. "I thought you would have moved on by then, you seemed to be falling in so well with S.W.A.T. You were moving up in the world and I was falling apart." He looked away from her then at the table, at the wall, not wanting to look at her in frustration. "I'm so sorry Bri." She said quietly. He got his emotions in check and looked back at her. She could see the pain in his eyes.

"Beck, babe, I loved you." She bit her lip. "No matter what was happening to you I would have welcomed you back, I would have helped you, you had to have known that."

"I guess I did." She sniffed. She hated this, she felt so responsible for his current situation because she knew something about him that not may others did. Not only was he a tirelessly loyal and courageous man, but he was also afraid; afraid of being alone in the world. "I left you alone." He didn't say anything. "And then Jim sold you out. I heard." Brian pierced his lips in an attempt to control his emotions.

"It's over now." He said. For the first time in her life she saw the look of defeat come over his features. In all the time she knew his she had never seen him this way. Not when they stood and waited for the men to come back after the Battle of Mogadishu, not when he helped usher the injured men into the medical center where she worked. Not even when she had left him two years ago. He had always taken things in stride, stayed strong to get done what needed to be done, but now he looked tired and worn. She was disgusted in herself.

"I still love you Brian." She stated. "I'm not gonna let you rot away in here."

"Little late." He responded, snapping back into his cold state.

"What's your bail at?" she said stubbornly.

"5 mil. Beck. There's nothing you can do."

"Watch me." She paused and stared intensely at the man on the other side of the glass. He was an American hero, aiding in the rescue of the men locked in that devastating situation back in '93. Not to mention saving numerous lives in S.W.A.T situations. Everyone else may have turned their backs on him, but she was not about to. "I'm gonna set things right whether you want me to or not." A small smile flashed across his face before she hung up the phone and walked out of the prison.


	3. Chapter 3

Rebecca Foster signed her name on along list provided to her at the Federal Prison. In the next column she carefully spelled out Alexander Montel's name. The Federal prison had higher security and much thicker glass than the jail Brian was in. The number of guards was upped 3 fold and everything was better maintained. As she waited for them to bring out Montel she thought over what she wanted from him. It was a long shot even asking him, but so far she hadn't any other plans.

She heard the jingle of chains as the criminal approached and she watched as he was handcuffed to the chair on one hand and picked up the phone with the other. Becky did the same.

"And you are…?" He said seductively in his French accent. She resisted the urge to grimace.

"A friend of Brian Gamble's" She said in a low tone. He leaned a little closer to the glass and glanced to the side to look at the guard.

"Did he send you here?"

"No, I came on my own. I have a proposition. Are you a reasonable man?"

"Reason is an opinionated thing, no?"

"Listen to my proposition." She started. "Had Gamble gotten you out of the states you would have given him 100 mil. But he didn't."

"Correct."

"He tried though, and damn hard, how bout a consolation prize?"

"Why would I pay him for not doing the job?"

"So I can post his bail. I know your assets are frozen but I also know that you have backup funds, off the record."

"And why would I spring him when I'm still in here?"

"Because if he gets out of prison…" She let her sentence trail off so the idea could sink in. With Brain out of prison he could potentially spring Montel.

"Call 1-888-909-1432, ask for Joe. When Joe answers tell him that the rum is out. He will ask you how much to order, tell him 5 bottles to the guesthouse. That goes to a secure P.O. box in the L.A. post office, number 4545. The money will be there within the day."

"Thank you Mr. Montel." She said with a smirk.

"And keep this in mind, if Gamble doesn't show up before I'm moved into INTERPOL custody, I will send out for him and you." He stated threateningly.

"I'll keep that in mind." She stated before hanging up the phone. Good thing this man wasn't the brightest.

The next day she made the call and the day after that she was in possession of 10 million dollars. She decided that he wouldn't find out that she had taken a few extra mils. And that they would need them to get out of the country once Brian was free.

Of course this would take time. The money was all in cash and she couldn't just walk up to the prison with a bag full of bills. She hid five grand in her house and over time she deposited the rest into a bank account in another identity that she was forging. Of course, she had to hire some professional sleaze to help her with that and it put a small dent in the 5 mil she had stashed, but she did what she needed. Eventually she was ready and she drove to the prison under he new identity, Tamara Rivers.

Brian looked up as the guard stood outside his cell just as he had a month ago when Beck had come to visit him.

"Your bail has been posted." The guard stated. Brian didn't move for a few seconds. When Beck had left he had thought she would never find a way to break him free, and he had resided himself to the next thirteen years in the hold. It seems he had underestimated her.

"Lets go." The guard said impatiently and Brian stood to be cuffed for the last time.

Beck leaned against her car as she waited at the gate. Everything was going to plan, but she was still on edge, nervous that something would slip up and expose where she had gotten the money or uncover her true identity. She picked at her nails. She wasn't this nervous until now. Maybe she was worried about something else. Deep down she knew exactly what that was. She couldn't shake the idea of Brian leaving her like she had him. She would spring him and as soon as he got back home he would pack his backs and leave without her.

She heard the click of the lock on the outer door and watched as it slowly opened. For the first time in two years she saw the Brian she remembered. Not the Brian on the nightly news toting guns and running from the cops. Not the Brian dressed in a bright orange jumpsuit and sporting chains. She saw her Brian, the man who would give his life for anyone that he cared about.

She straightened up and moved around to the front of her car, her stomach doing a nervous flip.

Brian Stepped out into the sunlight with his own close on his back and the familiar feel of his dog tags around his neck. He passed the last guard and looked up the ramp to the last gate he would ever be behind. Beyond that was a woman in a white top and skirt with a large white sunhat on her head.

She didn't look like Beck. He stated to wonder who else could have possibly sprung him. He knew no one with that kind of money and really could think of no one else who would have cared. As he got closer and pushed open the gate he caught a glimpse of her cropped hair under the hat. It was the same shade as Beck's hair, the feature that had first caught his eye back on the base in Mogadishu.

She tilted her head back and he could finally see her face clearly under the hat. She then stuck out her hand.

"Tamara Rivers." He shook it, feeling it best to play along with whatever she was doing. "Shall we?" She said and she walked to the driver's side door. Brian got in the other side and she started to drive. Once they were a safe distance away from the prison she took off the hat with a groan. "God! I don't know how women wear those things!" She tossed it in the back seat and ran a hand through her hair. Brian watched her curiously, still barely believing she had done it.

"Tamara Rivers?"

"I had to keep up appearances." She said turning to him. He let out the slightest chuckle and looked her over. He had only seen her dressed up on few occasions, and even then she had never worn this much white.

"White looks good on you." He said, still a little bit stunned. She smiled a little. "Makes your hair stand out." He said reaching out and touching one of the cropped ends.

"I'm sorry I cut it off." She ran her hand through it again. He voice was shaking a little from nerves. "I know you like long hair." She cleared her throat. And gripped the steering wheel.

"It's alright, It'll grow back." He stated. "'Sides, it's kinda nice." He took in how it hovered around her jaw and framed her face. She still clutched the steering wheel. "Beck, I'm not gonna leave you."

"I would understand if you wanted to." She offered up. "After all I walked out on you."

"Beck." He said a little exasperated. He reached out and slid one of her hands off the steering wheel. "The last thing I want to do is loose you again." He felt her grip tighten on her hand and she smiled.

"Don't get ahead of yourself." She said with laughter in her voice. She pulled her hand out of his and reached into a bag in the back seat, revealing two passports. After a quick glance she tossed one to him. He opened it to see his face on the second page, but a different name typed out beside.

"Quint Lassinger?" He let his head fall back on the headrest as a huge smile lit up his face. "Where do you come up with these names?"

"Well Quint, from Jaws, you like that movie." He chuckled. "And Lassinger was my boot camp officer. Nice guy, relatively." They were silent for a moment and watched the desert go by.

"What's the plan?"

"How does Australia sound?"

"Beautiful." He watched as some sand blew across the road in front of him and wondered how she had made this happen, but he didn't want to ask, not right now. Instead he reached for her hand again and kissed it before resting his arm on the center consol, entwining his fingers with hers. "I love you Beck."

"I'll always love you Bri."


End file.
